Currently Available

art as magic

RECENT WORK

"Bow Creek Brave" 8"x8" Acrylic on panel.. 

LANDSCAPES  |  OTHER  |  ABSTRACTS

SHAMANS

Speaker for the Second World (Detail).jpg
Dream Watcher.jpg
Moon Shaman.jpg
Guardian of the Spiral Path.jpg

SHAMANS  |  OTHER  | ABSTRACTS

None of my landscapes are of real places—other than that they must be close by where my shamans live. Call them “unearned memories” that live within me and come to life only when I paint.
— Lawrence Lee 2017
 

LANDSCAPES

Bell Peak Afternoon.jpg
"My Arizona Sky" 36"x36" Acrylic on canvas.

"My Arizona Sky" 36"x36" Acrylic on canvas.


"Meta One" 48" x 48" Acrylic on canvas.

"Meta Two" 48" x 48" Acrylic on canvas.

THE ARTIST.  WHAT IS REAL?  HE BATTLES HIS DAEMONS.  HE BATTLES HIMSELF.



SHAMANS  |  LANDSCAPES  |  OTHER  

Abstracts

"Procyon" 16"x16" Acrylic on panel.

"Procyon" 16"x16" Acrylic on panel.

"The Whispers of Deneb" 36" x 36" Acrylic on canvas.

"The Whispers of Deneb" 36" x 36" Acrylic on canvas.

Terry and Mary Lewis painting.jpg
I touched your wing and felt the universe electric, waves of possibility echoing into nothing and everything: all illusion. I see you from the crests of different hills within that spectrum, which is mere artifice drawn by itself. But here, for your pleasure alone, I touch those contrapuntal nodes you perceive as colors and to which you give many names. And I make within you questions newly asked. And I... I do not know whether the cat lives still, nor do I care.
— Lawrence W. Lee 2015

Life is a chaotic melange of real and unreal in which questions are free to answer themselves and pattern (in all but the mathematical sense) is meaningless illusion. So we create joy as only we may know it. We organize everything, because consciousness demands no less. And because in an infinite universe we are infinitely small; we create the outrider to push back the dark, to measure some measure and to oversee all.
— Lawrence W. Lee 2015

Shhhh.... No one must know. There lies beneath this rattling air, beneath layer on layer of sand upon stone, the machine of our God, seeing with eyes closed. Silicon. Magnetite. Copper. Greenish bile and bloodless bone. None who look upon its face live to tell. But I believe. I must. I was told by my father those ages ago, who was told by his father as well. And who am I to question their words? They must have heard tales from those who did know, those messengers not of sinew made who spoke to the ancients and said it was so.
— Lawrence W. Lee 2015
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